Julie Fay: Who needs bad guys?

My preschool sons have discovered cops and robbers, although they play it with a twist. Watching them, I think of situations when I could have used a ray gun to take care of some bad guys.

Julie Fay

“Don’t shoot!” Brian yells. “I’m a good guy!”

”Oh,” says Timmy. “I thought you were a bad guy.”

My preschool sons have discovered cops and robbers, although they play it with a twist. Inspired by their recent exposure to “Star Wars,” they run around the house, toy spaceships in hand, shooting at anything or anyone who might be a bad guy. Sometimes they play this game for so long that they have to take a break and clarify their positions.

“Are you a good guy or a bad guy?” Brian asks.

Timmy’s answer depends on his mood, so Brian’s confusion is understandable. But their allegiances are redefined quickly, and the game begins again.

Watching them, I think of situations when I could have used a ray gun to take care of some bad guys, like the friend who blabbed when she was sworn to secrecy. Or the backstabbing colleague, or that boss whose opinions turned on a dime. The world is full of broken promises, and sometimes a missile-equipped spaceship would come in handy.

Timmy and Brian are too young to have this kind of drama in their lives. The gravest offense either of them commits is stealing a teddy bear from the other, or arguing over what to play next. Sometimes they do get a little rough, however, and I have to bring out the heavy artillery.

“You! Sit on that chair!” I order. “And you! On the couch! Don’t even look at each other!” They retreat into the cushions, sulking and glaring. But once tempers have cooled, including mine, diplomacy rules once more.

“Now, wouldn’t you rather play than sit here?” I ask. “What should you say?”

“Sorry, Timmy,” Brian mumbles.

Timmy pops his thumb out of his mouth. “That’s OK,” he says, and both boys’ good-guy status is restored.

“OK, you can get up,” I say.

“I wanna be the good guy,” Timmy requests, looking for his spaceship.

“But I wanna be the good guy,” Brian protests.

They look at each other, the time-out fresh in their minds. Will they find a peaceful solution to this standoff? Or will I have to impose armchair diplomacy once more?

“I know,” Brian says. “We can both be good guys.”

“That’s right,” I say. And then I add, silently: May you always be two of the good guys.

Reach Julie Fay at fayjulie@gmail.com, or read more by Julie at juliefaysblog.blogspot.com.